She’d gone into shock, but a moment before she would have been found, she’d hidden under the porch stairs, with bugs and mud, and who knew what else. That was where Powell had found her.
Powell’s warnings came back to her as well. The Renegades are worse than the Zodius. They pretend they are good, but they’ll smile and then shoot you in the back. These men had done just that to her father, to her family. Now this one was trying to do the same to her.
“I’ll leave the door cracked,” Damion said, moving toward the exit. “In case you need me or feel sick. But I won’t come in. You have my word.”
She actually believed him, which was a reason to disbelieve him. He could stab her in the back the minute she let her guard down.
He started to turn, and suddenly, she wanted him to know he couldn’t fool her, he couldn’t suck her in. “I’m Lara,” she said, giving him the name he sought. “And I was created to kill your kind. And I will kill you before this is over.”
He didn’t react, his expression unchanged, his big body still loose-muscled and comfortable. “Since you plan to kill me, seems only fair I get to know my assassin’s full name.”
She realized that she wanted him to know too, and she wanted him to know what the Renegades had taken from her, why she sought revenge. Why she would kill him. “Lara…” she said, intending to give him her last name, but her mind went blank.
He arched a brow at her hesitation. “Lara what?”
She didn’t know. She reached into her memories, but there was no name. Desperate, she tried to picture her past, her family, but there was simply more of that blankness.
“It doesn’t matter,” she lied, because it mattered more than he would ever know. “Lara is dead. My duty is all I have left.” And she feared that was truer than ever, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture her family, couldn’t see their faces.
He studied her a moment, his gaze hot and steady, probing and thoughtful. “Lara isn’t dead,” he said. “She’s lost. And I’m going to help you find her again.” He said nothing else, simply turned and left the room. He pulled the door shut, but for a small crack, leaving Lara to stare after him, lost in every way.
How long she stared after him she did not know, because at some point, she became aware of warm water running over her naked skin, of suds washing down the drain by her feet, of her own name on her tongue, as she whispered it over and over. She tried to answer the question the GTECH had asked her— Lara what? Mallery. Lara Mallery. But the instant the name came into her mind, it felt wrong. It felt empty and brought no recollection of the past.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her mind to picture her family, to open herself to her memories. The GTECHs had taken her family. She would not let this new GTECH, Damion, take her memories. But the harder she strained to remember her past, the darker her mind became, until the name “Lara Martin” came to her. A sudden onslaught of conflicting, violent images flooded her mind. Of GTECHs killing her family, then of Sabrina dragging her up a set of stairs and ordering a man she didn’t know, someone named Skywalker, to be killed. But Skywalker was dead, and it hurt. God, it hurt so badly.
Lara hit the wall of the shower, the deaths of family, of Skywalker, replaying in her mind’s eye, over and over, and with them, the pain, the loss, sparking the hot flames of anger that the water had no chance of dousing. The need for vengeance, the familiar need for justice, roared to life—her only hope of sanity, her only reason to go on.
Chapter 6
If anyone was working sexual voodoo on anyone, Damion would have sworn it was the woman in that bathroom, and on him. She’d just told him she was an assassin trained to kill GTECHs like himself, that she, in fact, intended to kill him, and all he’d wanted to do was strip her naked and take her right there
Powell’s warnings came back to her as well. The Renegades are worse than the Zodius. They pretend they are good, but they’ll smile and then shoot you in the back. These men had done just that to her father, to her family. Now this one was trying to do the same to her.
“I’ll leave the door cracked,” Damion said, moving toward the exit. “In case you need me or feel sick. But I won’t come in. You have my word.”
She actually believed him, which was a reason to disbelieve him. He could stab her in the back the minute she let her guard down.
He started to turn, and suddenly, she wanted him to know he couldn’t fool her, he couldn’t suck her in. “I’m Lara,” she said, giving him the name he sought. “And I was created to kill your kind. And I will kill you before this is over.”
He didn’t react, his expression unchanged, his big body still loose-muscled and comfortable. “Since you plan to kill me, seems only fair I get to know my assassin’s full name.”
She realized that she wanted him to know too, and she wanted him to know what the Renegades had taken from her, why she sought revenge. Why she would kill him. “Lara…” she said, intending to give him her last name, but her mind went blank.
He arched a brow at her hesitation. “Lara what?”
She didn’t know. She reached into her memories, but there was no name. Desperate, she tried to picture her past, her family, but there was simply more of that blankness.
“It doesn’t matter,” she lied, because it mattered more than he would ever know. “Lara is dead. My duty is all I have left.” And she feared that was truer than ever, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture her family, couldn’t see their faces.
He studied her a moment, his gaze hot and steady, probing and thoughtful. “Lara isn’t dead,” he said. “She’s lost. And I’m going to help you find her again.” He said nothing else, simply turned and left the room. He pulled the door shut, but for a small crack, leaving Lara to stare after him, lost in every way.
How long she stared after him she did not know, because at some point, she became aware of warm water running over her naked skin, of suds washing down the drain by her feet, of her own name on her tongue, as she whispered it over and over. She tried to answer the question the GTECH had asked her— Lara what? Mallery. Lara Mallery. But the instant the name came into her mind, it felt wrong. It felt empty and brought no recollection of the past.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her mind to picture her family, to open herself to her memories. The GTECHs had taken her family. She would not let this new GTECH, Damion, take her memories. But the harder she strained to remember her past, the darker her mind became, until the name “Lara Martin” came to her. A sudden onslaught of conflicting, violent images flooded her mind. Of GTECHs killing her family, then of Sabrina dragging her up a set of stairs and ordering a man she didn’t know, someone named Skywalker, to be killed. But Skywalker was dead, and it hurt. God, it hurt so badly.
Lara hit the wall of the shower, the deaths of family, of Skywalker, replaying in her mind’s eye, over and over, and with them, the pain, the loss, sparking the hot flames of anger that the water had no chance of dousing. The need for vengeance, the familiar need for justice, roared to life—her only hope of sanity, her only reason to go on.
Chapter 6
If anyone was working sexual voodoo on anyone, Damion would have sworn it was the woman in that bathroom, and on him. She’d just told him she was an assassin trained to kill GTECHs like himself, that she, in fact, intended to kill him, and all he’d wanted to do was strip her naked and take her right there
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